


Triangulation

by romanticalgirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Measuring angles and planes, searching for an equation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triangulation

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/)**inlovewithnight** asked for a fic about a triangle where everyone knew and it wasn't easy, and so I wrote her this. 
> 
> Originally posted 4-20-09

Carolyn opens the door and blinks blurrily at Kevin, sniffling into the Kleenex bunched in her hand. “What’re you doing here?”

Kevin’s brow furrows as he attempts to decipher her cold-accented words then holds up a bag. “I brought soup.”

“Why?”

It sounds more like “Die”, but Kevin doesn’t take it personally. “John said you were sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

“You’re dot sick?” Carolyn flips him off and sniffs again, far more regally this time. Kevin shrugs. “I also brought ‘Pride and Prejudice’.”

“The Colin Firth version?”

“You say that like there’s an alternative.”

She regards him for a long moment and then relents. “Come in.” She steps back and lets Kevin in. “You know John’s not home.”

“Yes.” Kevin tries to keep his voice even, probably failing. John is the sore point between the two of them, which wouldn’t be quite so bad if he weren’t the only point they have in common.

“He’s not flying in from New York until late.”

“I know.”

“Isn’t tonight your date night?” She asks it casually and maybe it is casual for her. Kevin’s never asked and isn’t sure he wants to know.

“Yeah. But like you said, he’s out of town.” Kevin glances around and then heads toward what he assumes is the kitchen. He’s only been here once and that was for a very short period of time, standing by the door while John ran in to get something he’d forgotten. This is enemy territory to Kevin, even if it’s where John lives. It’s where John lives with Carolyn. She’s looking at him expectantly and Kevin shrugs again. “He mentioned you were sick.”

“Why would he mention that?”

“We talk about you from time to time.” It hurts to give her that, because Kevin’s not sure that she could reciprocate the information. From what Kevin gathers of her relationship with John, Carolyn views Kevin as a minor interruption, not as any kind of threat. Or maybe what bothers Kevin is the fact that it’s the truth. John lives with Carolyn. John loves Carolyn.

“I hope he wasn’t using me as a way to get out of a date.” Kevin sets the pan on the stove and pours the soup into it carefully. He can feel her eyes on him as she sits at the small table, and he refuses to give her anything. “Though something tells me it’s a little more than that between you.”

“You’d have to ask John why he told me you were sick.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t because he expected you to drop by and feed me soup.”

“Homemade soup.” He glances over his shoulder when she doesn’t respond, smiling a little at the look on her face. “What?”

“Homemade?”

“Yeah. My mom made it.”

“You brought me soup your _mother_ made.”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell her? Hey, Mom, you know that guy I’m dating? I need to take some soup to his sick girlfriend?”

“Something like that.” Kevin opens drawers looking for a wooden spoon, finally finding one. He stirs the soup slowly, feeling Carolyn’s eyes on him. “What?”

“I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.”

Kevin adjusts the temperature on the soup and then comes over to the table, sitting down across from her. He wonders briefly if this is what it’s like for John, sitting close enough to touch her through a meal, bent toward each other like something out of a movie of Americans in France, falling in love over croissants and espresso. “Can’t I just be a nice guy?”

“Well, I’d think that, except you’re dating my boyfriend.”

Kevin exhales slowly, scraping his upper lip with his teeth as he nods. “Yeah. There is that. Let the soup heat up for another ten minutes. I’ll get the movie from John the next time I see him, okay?”

Carolyn sighs softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re not.”

“No. I’m not. I’m a bitch, which is something else I’m sure John’s told you about me.” She smiles slightly and sniffs again. “Why are you here, Kevin?”

“John told me you were sick. I knew he was out of town. I thought you could use a little taking care of.”

“But you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” Kevin looks at her quickly, surprised. “I don’t hate you.”

“You should. I mean, if it weren’t for me…”

Kevin gets up and goes to the refrigerator, looking through the contents for a moment, composing himself. He grabs a beer for himself and then takes the teakettle off the stove and fills it. “If it weren’t for you. That’s a dangerous phrase, you know. That’s what makes ‘what if’ seductive. You can come up with everything you ever wanted, everything you dreamed of by saying ‘what if’. But the truth of the matter is you’re in John’s life. You’re his girlfriend. You’re his roommate. You’re his lover. You’re…you’re a huge part of his life.”

“So are you.”

Kevin opens cabinets until he finds tea bags and sets up a cup for Carolyn before taking a drink of his beer. He turns to look at her, leaning against the counter. “I’m just someone he fucks on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“You’re his friend. You’re his lover. You’re the person he talks to when he’s frustrated with me or with work or with life in general. He goes to you for advice about things. He trusts your opinion. He loves you.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Yes, he does.” Carolyn exhales and tugs her feet up onto her chair, wrapping her arms around her legs. Kevin smiles as her robe falls open, exposing her legs clad in pink flannel pajamas with bunnies on them. She rests her chin on her knees and frowns at him, the tip of her nose red. “Do you think I’d let him just fuck around on me?”

“I don’t know. Would you?” The teakettle whistles and he pours the tea for her, concentrating on it so he doesn’t have to look at her. After a few minutes, he brings it over to her and sits across from her again. “Why do you?”

“John loves you.” She shrugs. “After he first met you, you were all he could talk about for weeks. Kevin-this and Kevin-that. He was on the phone with you. He was talking about you. Finally I got fed up and told him if he was so enamored with you, maybe he should fuck you. And he got quiet.” She sips her tea then adds a spoonful of honey from a small jar on the table. “About two hours later, he came into the bedroom and stood in the door and asked me if I meant it.”

Kevin sighs and takes another drink of his beer. “Did you?”

“I don’t know if I did when I said it, but I did mean it when I said yes.” She sips her tea again and inhales the steam rising off the cup. She looks at him and refuses to look away. Kevin sets his beer down and folds his hands in front of him.

“What?”

“Why did you get together with him if you knew he was with me?” A slight smile curves her lips, something knowing in it. “Did you think you could make him realize he was wasting his time on girls and guys are where it’s at?”

“I just liked him. Most of the time we just hung out. We talked. Watched movies. I knew about you. I mean, he told me he was living with someone. I didn’t want to get involved, but…”

“But you fell in love with him.”

Kevin sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“He’s sneaky that way.” She picks a piece of fuzz of her knee and then rests her chin on it again. “He does love you, and he likes you too, which probably is worse, at least from my standpoint.”

“Why is that?” Kevin finishes his beer, tracing the small ring of water on the table with his finger.

“Well, love burns out. It fades. It…people fall out of love. People usually stay friends.” Her toes are painted a dark purple-brown that sparkles. “I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, Kevin. I mean, after all, you brought me soup. But I’m never going to like you, and I’m never going to like having you on the periphery of my life. I want John to be happy, and I _hate_ that you make him happy. That it takes you in our lives to make him happy.” She gets up and walks over to the pan and stirs it, dishing herself a bowl of soup.

Kevin turns in his chair to watch her. He can see all the reasons John’s in love with her. Carolyn is smart and funny and clever, she’s sexy and beautiful and dangerous as well. With her dark hair cascading in waves down her shoulders and her wide smile, her perfect almost elfin face. Kevin remembers the first time he saw them together, coming out of a restaurant. Carolyn had been in a short, tight black skirt and a dark purple shirt and John had been in jeans and a black leather jacket. They’d looked like something out of a movie, out of a magazine and Kevin hadn’t returned John’s calls for a week. “I won’t stop seeing him.”

“I know.” She laughs softly and digs a spoon out of the drawer. “Trust me, I know.” She comes back to the table and sits down, blowing across the soup before taking a bite. She closes her eyes and makes a noise as she swallows. “Oh, that’s good.”

“My mom’s a good cook.”

They sit there in silence for a long time while Carolyn sips small spoonfuls of soup. Finally she looks up at him, letting the spoon clatter against the empty dish. “Why are you here, Kevin?”

“I don’t know.” He bites his lower lip, letting out a long sigh. “I just thought maybe you’d like some soup.”

Carolyn is about to say something when there’s the sound of a key in the door. Kevin looks up, his heart suddenly pounding. This was never part of the plan…not that there ever _was_ a plan.

“I…well, I should go. Enjoy the movie. And the rest of the soup.” He gets to his feet and shoves his hands in his pockets, glancing at the door. “I hope you feel better soon.” He moves toward the door just as it swings open. John looks tired from his flight, but the typical energy that seems to course under his skin is visible from the way he tosses his bag onto the couch and sheds his jacket like a snake shedding skin.

“Hey, Caro.” He tosses the jacket on top of his bag. “I’m home.”

“Hey.” She’s next to Kevin, and he’s not sure when or how she got there. John turns away from the bedroom toward her and stops when he sees Kevin.

“H-hey.” John’s eyes widen, his gaze moving from one to the other. “Kevin.”

“Don’t worry. I was just leaving.” Kevin sketches him a smile and starts for the door. “Glad you made it home safe.”

John nods and then looks at Carolyn. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I just finished my soup.” She walks over to him and stands on tiptoe, sliding a hand around the back of his neck and kissing him. Kevin shifts uncomfortably then turns his gaze away, heading for the door. He’s almost there when John’s voice stops him.

“Kevin?” Kevin stops, hand on the doorknob, and closes his eyes for a moment before turning to face John. “You brought her soup?”

“You said she was sick.” He manages a smile and nods toward the door. “I really do have to go.”

“It’s our date night and you’ve made other plans?” John smiles back, tilting his head to the side. He walks up to Kevin and leans on the wall next to the door, watching him with his dark eyes. He looks tired, but alert, that kind of caffeine awareness that John always has after long days on airplanes. “I think I’m hurt.”

“You were out of town. Not to mention the fact that your girlfriend is sick and needs pampering.” The words stick slightly in his throat, but he manages them.

“Seems to me like you took care of that.”

“Don’t make too much out of it.” Kevin shrugs. “I’d do the same for anyone.”

“You’d give up ‘Pride & Prejudice’ for anyone?” John’s eyebrow goes up and he shakes his head. “You’re a nice guy, Kevin Walker.”

“Must be why you keep me around.”

John nods and leans in, brushing Kevin’s lips with his own. “One of the reasons.”

 

~**~

 

John watches Carolyn sleep from where he stands beside the window, leaning against the frame as she tosses restlessly, sweat holding tendrils of her hair dark against her skin. The air of the apartment still smells of broth, the comforting scent of Kevin’s mother’s homemade soup lingering. Exhaling, John moves out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, catching a single beer by the neck and climbing out onto the fire escape. He opens the beer and takes a long pull, digging his secret stash of cigarettes from their hiding place. Carolyn hates that he smokes, hates that his job leaves him wreathed in the smell of cigarettes and booze and sex, but she doesn’t try to stop him so long as he keeps it out of their apartment. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from tossing them when she finds them. She hasn’t found this spot yet, so he strokes the flint wheel of the lighter until it roars to life and draws the smoke deep into his lungs.

Blowing out a slow, steady stream of smoke, he digs his phone out of his pocket and flips it open. There are messages – there are always messages – but he ignores them, pressing one of his speed dial numbers and taking another drink while he waits for an answer. The thought that Kevin doesn’t have his phone is laughable, but John can’t discount the possibility that Kevin might ignore his call. The phone has already rung seven times – roughly six more times than Kevin would usually allow – and he’s about to hang up when Kevin answers.

“Hey.”

John closes his eyes and leans back against the wall, surprised at the sharp relief that settles in his chest. “Hi.”

“Carolyn doing better?”

There’s a special kind of absurdity to this moment, to his boyfriend asking about his girlfriend. There hasn’t ever been a secret between them about any of this – John remembers the first time with Kevin, the desperate, hungry kisses and the frantic explaining he’d had to do before Kevin let him into his bed, the painful conversation that had ended with Kevin allowing him into his life – but John thinks that he’s never heard Kevin say Carolyn’s name. “She’s sleeping. Her fever’s breaking. The soup helped.”

There’s a silence, and he can picture Kevin nodding, can see his fingers curved so carefully around the stem of a glass.

“I didn’t mean for you to come and see her.” John takes a drag from the cigarette then swallows the smoke down with his beer.

“I know.” Kevin’s voice is soft, and John wishes he could see his face. Kevin can’t keep secrets, not just because he tells them, but because his face gives everything away. “I’m sorry I stayed so late. I meant to be gone before you got home.”

“Was she nice to you?” John knows it’s a stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to ask or how to ask it.

“We’re not going out for coffee or painting each others’ nails later.”

John winces at the sharpness in Kevin’s attempt at humor. “Caro likes to paint and sharpen her own claws.” Kevin doesn’t respond, and John takes another drag off his cigarette in the ensuing silence. “I’m sorry about having to cancel tonight.”

“You were working.” There’s the barest hitch in Kevin’s voice and John has to close his eyes. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Kevin…” He’s not sure what he wants to say, what – if anything – will take the hurt from Kevin’s voice. “I’d understand, you know, if…If…”

There’s another sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a frission of hurt John can feel like a knife. “It’s late,” Kevin manages, his voice tight. “I should go. I have to work tomorrow.”

John wills himself to just say goodnight, but his mouth has a mind of its own. “I just…”

“If you want to end things, have the decency to do it to my face.” Kevin hangs up before John can respond, and it’s a long while before John manages to close his phone, longer still before he goes inside and slips in next to Carolyn, wrapping his arms around her to try to ward off the chill.

**

“So.” Carolyn is propped against the pillows, watching as John unpacks. “Kevin seems nice.”

“He is nice.”

“Too nice.”

John hesitates before sliding his t-shirts into the drawer. “What does that mean exactly? ‘Too nice’. How can someone be _too_ nice?”

“Too nice to be some guy’s piece on the side.” He tries not to react, knowing she’s watching him. “I mean, he seems like he deserves happiness, you know? Real happiness, not just two nights a week of getting balled.”

“Are you trying to start a fight, Caro?” He barely manages to keep his voice calm as he keeps unpacking, shoving things into drawers with more force than is necessary.

“I’m trying to be reasonable, John. You like him, right?”

“No. I just thought I’d risk my long-standing relationship with the woman I love so I could take it up the ass every now and then.” He slams the drawer closed. “You know how I feel about him. I’ve been honest with you about _all_ of this.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, a sure sign that John’s hit a nerve. He’s far too angry to apologize, and fat too afraid that she’s right. “You love him.”

“Yeah, I do, Caro. I love him. “

“You love me.”

“Yes. You know I do.”

“Then you’re not being fair and you know it. You love him, but all you can give him is a couple of nights a week and, unless you plan on ending things with me, John, that’s never going to change.”

“That’s not fair. This is easy for you, easy for you to say. We’re living together.”

“We are.” She reaches for his hand and tugs him down to sit on the bed. “But this isn’t easy for me. None of this is. Knowing that I’m not enough? Knowing that you love someone else? Knowing Kevin? Knowing that he’s good for you? Knowing that he loves you? Knowing you love him? _None_ of that is easy, John.”

“You want me to…”

“I want you to be happy. I want Kevin to be happy. I want to be happy. I just don’t know that this is the way to make any of that happen.”

“It’s easy for you to say…”

“It would be-” She nods, agreeing though her eyes tell a different story. “It would be, John, if I was sure that you’d choose me.”

He looks at her for a long moment then gets off the bed. “I’m going for a walk.”

**

He met Kevin at a coffee shop where they literally ran into each other. What started out as threats of litigation, dry-cleaning bills and slurs on each other’s ability to walk upright much less navigate a crowded Starbucks, had evolved into a friendship. He liked Kevin’s sense of humor, his painfully sharp wit, his vicious insights and the way they seemed at odds with the gentleness in his occasional touch, the kindness he showed to the wait staff, the way he looked at John.

John had told the truth about Carolyn up front, told more truths when they stayed out late drinking. He’d told Kevin about life on the road with a band, about eager musicians hoping to score a record deal and offering anything for a chance. Kevin hadn’t assumed why John told him, had made John take the step toward him, made John reach for him, made John kiss him. He hadn’t refused. He hadn’t said stop.

John sips his coffee at the small café in the lobby of Kevin’s office building. He knows Carolyn is right, and he hates it, maybe hates her a little right now because of it. His fingers worry the wrought iron table, playing a half-forgotten solo restlessly. The initial surge through the lobby comes, a wave of relieved people changing from hard workers to hard partiers free for their weekend.

It slows to a trickle and then a drip, the stream of people nearly dried up when the elevator opens again. Kevin’s dressed in one of his suits, looking as pressed and fresh as if it were morning instead of well past quitting time. John feeds on the sight of him, fighting the desire to loosen Kevin’s tie, to bring down his work façade.

Kevin doesn’t see him, too caught up in a conversation with another man. He’s taller than Kevin and broader, and he has his hand at the small of Kevin’s back. John has to work not to crumple his coffee cup in his fist at the sight of it, the _intimacy_ , the possessiveness of the gesture. Kevin laughs and shakes his head as the other man guides him closer to the door.

“Kevin.”

Kevin starts at the sound of his name, looking around and stilling when he sees John. He says something to his companion and pulls away, heading toward John. John holds the man’s gaze as he glares until he jerks his eyes away, slamming out of the building as Kevin reaches John’s table.

“What are you doing here?” Kevin’s voice is defensive and sharp. Before John can answer, he shakes his head. “Couldn’t wait?”

“What?” Whatever words John might have said were washed away in the rush of jealousy that had come with seeing someone else touch Kevin. He shook his head. “I really just want to talk. Do you think we can do that?”

Kevin sighs softly, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Can I buy you dinner?” John keeps his voice light, holding back the urge to ask Kevin who the other man was, what he wanted, why he was touching Kevin. Kevin shrugs and heads to the door, his whole body tense. “I thought we could go to that Italian place you like.”

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

“I do.” John meets his gaze. “I do.”

“And you expect to do that at a busy restaurant on a Friday night?”: Kevin shakes his head. “It is Friday, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Almost six-thirty.”

“Carolyn knows where I am, Kevin.” John takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Please? Can we do this without her being the fight you’re picking?”

“There are rules, John. I’m just trying to keep them straight.”

“No, you aren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t have shown up at our apartment yesterday.” Kevin’s mouth snaps closed and John regrets his choice of words. “She knows where I am, Kevin, so can we please talk?”

“I’ll pick up Chinese.” Kevin heads for the parking garage without a backward glance. “Let yourself in.”

**

John prowls Kevin’s apartment impatiently, drumming his fingers on the back of the couch, along the bookcase shelves. He doesn’t know what he wants to say, so words keep crowding his throat when he tries to figure it out. The door swings open to the hot scent of Szechwan and other spices, Kevin’s predilection for heat obviously dominating the menu.

“There’s beer,” Kevin informs him as he sheds his suit jacket at the door then carries the food over to the coffee table. John snags two beers out of the refrigerator then comes back to join Kevin. He’s already spooning rice and chow mien onto flimsy paper plates, so John opens both bottles and sets one in front of Kevin. Kevin hands him the plate in return, then goes back to dishing up his own.

After a few more minutes, Kevin leans back against the couch and places his plate precariously on his white shirt. “So let me guess.” Kevin stabs a piece of chicken hard. “I’m a nice guy.”

John swallows quickly, heat searing his throat. “You…yeah. You are nice.”

“And because I’m nice, I deserve better than this…whatever it is you can give me.” Kevin raises an eyebrow, checking John’s reactions. “If you love something, set it free, right?”

John can feel the heat of the peppers in the dishes littering his plate burning almost as much as the rush of blood caused by Kevin’s sharp words.

“Just one question, John.”

He manages a nod, not sure he’s capable of anything else.

“Do you love Carolyn?”

He nods again, his voice soft. “Yes.”

“Then why the hell isn’t she suggesting you set _her_ free?”

John sets his plate on the coffee table and turns to face Kevin. “Why are you in this? I mean, you knew from the beginning that I was involved with Carolyn that I was living with her. What were you hoping for? What are you hoping for?”

Something flashes in Kevin’s eyes, dangerous and hot. “It’s not enough to be involved with both of us, John? You need your ego stroked some more?”

“Jesus.” John gets up and paces the room, glaring at Kevin as he makes measures off long strides in frustration. “I’m trying to fix this, okay? I’m trying to…figure it out. I’m not asking for romantic declarations of undying love, I’m just trying to figure out why you want to subject yourself to me, to the fact that I’m seeing someone else, the fact that I _can’t_ …”

“Won’t.”

“Can’t. Won’t. Whatever.” John throws up his hands and glares at Kevin. “I wish it was easy, okay? I wish I’d taken one look at you and either not felt anything or felt too much. I wish that I didn’t feel this way about both of you, but I do, and I don’t know how to stop and I don’t _want_ to stop, and maybe that’s selfish…”

“It is.”

“Quit it!” John stops when he realizes he’s yelling, taking a deep breath and holding it for a long time. “So I’m selfish. That’s not a surprise to any single one of us. I love Carolyn. I’m not going to stop. I love her and I live with her and we’ve got a good thing.”

“You do.” Kevin’s voice is no longer sarcastic, and the lack of an edge cuts at John worse than his sharp words. “So you’ve made a choice.”

“No.” He shakes his head, looking down at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze back to Kevin. “Because I love you. And I don’t want my life to be without you in it. I love being with you and…and everything you give me.”

“Two days a week.”

“We could make it three.” John moves back to the couch and sits down, taking Kevin’s plate away from him to save Kevin’s shirt and to protect himself from a face-full of food. “Almost half and half. I…I need you, Kevin. I love you.”

“And she’s agreed to this?”

“No.” John’s breath sags out of him, his shoulders falling. “I thought I should talk to you first.” He stares at the plates and listens to Kevin breathe, listens to his own rapid heartbeat. “Who was that guy?”

“Which guy?”

“The one at your office.” John doesn’t look at him, afraid of Kevin’s expressive face now. “The one who was touching you.”

“His name is Kyle.”

“He likes you.”

“He does.” Kevin’s voice is flat, short. John knows Kevin doesn’t want to talk about Kyle or any of this. “He asked me out.”

John’s stomach drops out, even as he chides himself for being unfair. “Did you say yes?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.” He swallows hard and looks over at Kevin. “But what I want shouldn’t matter here. I want you…I want you in my life, Kevin, but not at the expense of yours.” He drops his gaze and feels the few bites of food churning in his stomach. “You deserve more than I can give you, and we both know that, but…but if you…if you want to be with me until you find it…I’d like that too.”

“So we go on as we are?”

He looks over at Kevin and tries to read his face, but for the first time he can remember, Kevin’s emotions are blocked, locked away somewhere John can’t see them. “I love you both.” He gets to his feet and heads for the door, knowing it will be a long time before he can stomach Chinese food again. “I’ll be at the bar on Tuesday like usual. I hope to see you there.”

**

John gets home and finds Carolyn in the middle of _Pride and Prejudice_ , curled up with a blanket and a pillow and lost somewhere with Mr. Darcy. He tosses his jacket onto the chair and walks over, lifting her feet and sitting down, settling them in his lap.

“You should watch this part,” she says softly. “This is where the aliens land and blow up London.”

“That’s _Pride and Extreme Prejudice_ , babe.”

“Oh. Well. I guess Elizabeth and Darcy are just going to be witty at each other then. Sorry.” She looks over at him and pauses the DVD when she sees his face. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” He stares at the frozen screen rather than look at her. “It’s sort of like The Clash.”

“The rock band?” She frowns, her brow wrinkling. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“ _Should I Stay or Should I Go_. Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.” He sighs and rubs his face roughly with his hand. “I love him, Caro.”

“I know you do.” She pulls her feet from his lap and sits up, wrapping her arms around her knees as she looks at him. “And I let you have him because I knew if I didn’t, I’d lose you.”

“So what do I do now? I can’t give him more, I can’t give you less. I can’t…” He closes his eyes and slumps back against the couch. “I told him to start seeing other people. That if he still wanted to see me, I…I would, I _want_ , but…but if he doesn’t…” He takes a deep shaky breath. “Should I tell you the same, Caro?”

“Do you really think it’d make a difference if you said it or not?”

He turns his head to face her, reaching over to wrap a long tendril of hair around his finger. “Yeah. Because if I actually said it, I think you’d probably kick my ass.”

“I would. I don’t want anyone but you, John.” She catches his hand when he starts to pull it away, shaking her head before planting a kiss against his palm. “And I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty for wanting Kevin. I knew what I was doing when I told you I was okay with you seeing him.”

“We’re living together. We’re…we’re a couple.”

“Yeah. You’ll notice I didn’t give you license to screw around with the rest of the male population of Los Angeles. I told you I was okay with Kevin, and I am, because I know you love him, and I can see how much he loves you. And I know that, if you guys stop having sex, you’ll still be friends. I don’t want you to love someone else, John, but I _get_ that you do. And I’d like to think that if mine and Kevin’s places were reversed, maybe he’d feel the same way.”

“I don’t know. He’s kind of angry at you right now.”

She moves into his lap and rests her head on his shoulder. “I think he and I are always going to have that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil. Doesn’t mean we can’t maybe even be friends.”

“You think?”

“No, not really.” She looks up at him and kisses him softly. “But I’m willing to give it a try if he is.”

“For me?”

“For you.” She shrugs. “And me and Kevin too. So…maybe you should invite him to dinner one night. One of _our_ nights. I can’t make anything quite as good as his mom’s soup, but maybe it’ll be enough.”

 

~**~

Carolyn holds up a coffee carrier and a bag as Kevin opens the door, her hands approximately in a position of surrender. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Are you Greek?”

“Only in that I loved George Michael when I was in high school.” She offers him a smile. “Can I come in?” He stands there for a long moment, obviously debating. Carolyn raises her eyebrows. “You haven’t replied to my invitation for dinner, you know. That’s kind of rude.”

He steps back, allowing her inside. “Sure.”

“I brought coffee.” She sets the carrier and the bag on the coffee table and glances around as she takes off her jacket. She drapes it over the back of the chair. “John told me what you like, so I got that. I also brought ice cream. I was going to go with coffee, but I thought that might be overload. I’ve been informed by sources that that’s not possible with you, but I took a chance and went mint chocolate chip.”

“My favorite, actually.” He’s standing by the door still, watching her as she moves around the couch to his bookcases, observing his life through his possessions. “Dare I ask why?”

“John’s out of town.” She picks up a picture of his family and studies them. “All week. I thought you could maybe use some company.”

“How did you know I didn’t _have_ company?”

“Because it’s Tuesday night.” She sets the picture down and then looks at him. “Tuesday belongs to John.”

“And you’re his proxy?”

“Well, I didn’t bring a strap-on if that’s what you’re asking.” She moves back to the couch and sits down, slipping off her shoes and tucking her legs underneath her. “I also brought _Die Hard_. I figured it has hot, sweaty, dirty Bruce Willis, so we’d both get something out of it.”

“Because you have a thing for ball-breaking bitches like Bonnie Bedelia?”

Carolyn laughs and pats the seat next to her. “Face it, Kevin. We’re involved with each other by virtue of the fact that we’re both dating him. We might as well pretend to be friendly.”

“You’ll forgive me if I make you taste everything first to make sure it’s not poisoned, right?” He sits on the opposite end of the couch and looks in the bag. “And we’re not both dating him. You’re living with him and he’s fucking me on the side.”

“We both know that’s not true, no matter how much of a diva you want to be about it.” She gets to her feet and heads into the kitchen, opening drawers until she finds spoons. “If he just wanted to fuck you, it’d be over with.”

“I’ll try and pretend that’s not some sort of slight against my sexual prowess.” He’s followed her to the kitchen, watching her as she fishes spoons out, noting that his apartment is neat and nothing is out of place. She’s not surprised. Kevin seems like he likes his chaos in his life, not in his surroundings. “Or his.”

“Definitely not his.” She laughs and brushes past him to the living room, settling back on the couch and fishing the ice cream out of the bag. “C’mon. Put the movie in.”

“Maybe I have plans. I mean, I did know John was out of town.”

She looks at him for a moment, wondering if he’s the type to do that, before she shakes her head. “Nope. You might date other people, you might screw around, but John’s time is sacred. Otherwise you wouldn’t bother at all. You’d have blown him off long ago. And please,” she holds up her hand to stop him from saying anything. “Save the frat-boy humor, okay? I’ve heard ‘em all. Think about who I live with.”

Kevin obliges, shutting his mouth on a half-formed word and taking the DVD out of the bag. He gets things set and then settles on the couch, forced closer to her by the fact that she’s foregone bowls and is eating the ice cream from the carton. She hands him the other spoon and holds it out to him.

“Dig in. Don’t be shy. I figure you’re sleeping with my boyfriend, a little shared saliva isn’t going to hurt us.”

He digs out a spoonful and slumps against the couch as the screen floods with a southern California sunrise. “It’s funny,” he ventures, casting a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “The changes now. McClane’s carrying a gun on the plane. He’s smoking in the airport.”

“Things used to be simpler.” She sucks the ice cream off her spoon and frowns at the TV. “I met John just out of law school. I hated him. He was one of those stupid college boys, you know? Intent on partying, finding the next hot chick. The band had settled in LA and was trying to record, and everything was pretty much an unqualified disaster.”

“But he was hot.”

“But he was insanely hot. He hadn’t grown into his looks yet, so he was all big eyes and sharp bones and he looked like a gangly teenager until he picked up the guitar and played, and then he and Dane were like golden gods, you know?”

“Mmmm.” He takes another mouthful of ice cream and sucks on it and she does the same, watching the movie in her peripheral vision. “We were sort of friends for a long time. It took us five years before he actually made a move on me.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his incredulity. “No. But it took him five years before he actually made a move worth of acknowledging.”

“And then?”

“And then it went like you’d expect. Dating for real, having sex, moving in together. Things were good. He stopped touring and started producing, stopped hanging out with the groupies and the roadies.” She shrugs and sighs. “Things were really good.”

“Until he met me?”

“Until he met you. No, even after he met you. Maybe because he met you. He was so good about things. Attentive, caring. Almost completely unlike John at all.” She laughs and gestures at him with a spoonful of melting green. “He was feeling guilty because he was fantasizing about you.”

“You knew he liked guys?”

“I knew he’d been with guys. I didn’t know if it was something more than what you did on the road because everyone else was doing it, or if it was a phase or if it was something that was a permanent part of him, you know? He’d told me about them. And then he told me about you.” She takes the ice cream in her mouth and sucks the spoon clean, needing the silence for a few moments. They both watch the screen halfheartedly. “I figured it out then. That it wasn’t just sex. I figured if he wanted just sex, he’d have fucked you and that would have been that. But you got to him.”

“It was kind of mutual.” Kevin leans forward and picks his coffee from the carrier, sipping it. She can imagine the heat against the coldness of the ice cream, and sucks at her tongue as she watches him. “Knowing that was worse, I think. I mean, it’s bad enough to want what you can’t have, but to have what you want and you can’t have want you back…”

“That’s not the point though.” She picks up her own coffee and holds it to her mouth, not sipping it yet, just inhaling the fragrant steam. “The point is here. Now. I mean, we made it past all that, and now we have to figure out how to go forward.” She finally takes a small sip, the coffee cooled enough that it doesn’t burn her tongue. “You’re seeing other people.”

“Yeah.”

“And you compare them all to him?”

“Yeah.” He laughs, the sound just on the verge of bitterness. “How do you not, right? Any time you have sex with someone else, you compare them to the person that matters the most in your life. That’s John.”

“Are you looking for someone? I mean, are you looking for someone to be in a relationship with or are you just finding other people to pass the time?” She keeps her voice light, but her eyes are sharp on him, watching for any tells or tics that might give away any lie he might offer her.

“I’m not looking for anything. I’m just taking what comes along.” He sets his coffee down and watches bloodshed and mayhem on the screen. He leans back and doesn’t look at her, lost somewhere in his own thoughts. “You’ll have to ask, you know.”

“Ask?” She draws her gaze from the TV back to him. “What do you mean?”

“If you want me to get out of his life. You’ll have to ask.”

She stares at him for a long moment then starts to laugh, her whole body shaking with it. He watches her, eyes concerned and confused, his head tilted like a curious dog as she finally calms down enough to talk. “Is that why you think I’m here?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Kevin, even if I wanted you out of John’s life, which I’m not saying I do, I’d never ask you to leave. First, John would be furious, and second, it wouldn’t work. Why should you care what _I_ ask you to do?” She laughs again, shaking her head. “No. I’m not here to ask you to get out of John’s life.”

“Then why _are_ you here?”

“You were nice to me.” She shrugs and grabs the ice cream container again and holds it out to him. “I felt like shit and you came over and were nice to me, even though you had no reason to be. I’m not used to that.”

“That says more about you than it does about me,” Kevin informs her flatly, but she can see the hint of a smile curving his lips. “So…you’re just returning the favor?”

“Yeah. I guess.” She waits for him to hand her the ice cream back and takes another spoonful. “Colin Firth for Bruce Willis is a fair trade, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” He watches silently for a moment. “This also has Alan Rickman.”

“Mmm.” She nods. “He’s hot too.”

“With a German accent.”

“Yup.” She offers him a smile. “Even hotter.”

“Okay, so you’re just being nice.”

“I’m just being nice.” She folds her legs back underneath her, getting settled on the couch. Kevin does the same, leaning in so that his shoulder is against hers. “Don’t get used to it or anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Though, you know…” Kevin turns his head, his eyebrow raised and she can practically see her own idea echoed in his gaze. He’s smiling before she even says a word. “John would completely freak out if we became friends.”

“Or he’d ask us for a threesome.” Carolyn tilts her head then nods. “Or, more likely, both.”

“I don’t think so.” Kevin wrinkles his nose and stabs his ice cream, not looking at Carolyn. “I don’t like you _that_ much.”

“Don’t worry,” Carolyn smiles. “ _That_ feeling is mutual too.”  



End file.
